


The Story Told

by Thorinsmut



Series: Free Orcs AU [11]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU: Erebor never fell, AU: free orcs, Complete, Gandalf is suspicious, Gen, Lifespan Difference, One Shot, the ring is evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows <i>The Deep Road</i> and <i>Trade Caravan to Gundabad</i>. </p><p>Even if Erebor never fell, the problem of the Ring must become known <i>somehow</i>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story Told

**Author's Note:**

> This is more a bit of connective tissue than a real story in its own right.   
> Sorry about that, but it needed to go before things that come after it.

“I’ve been looking for _you_ , Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo looked up at the voice, shaken out of his dreamy contemplation of the valley of Imladris. It was a tall old Man who’d spoken, dressed all in gray and…

“Gandalf!” Bilbo greeted, waving his pipe cheerfully. Rivendel always put him in a good mood, “Join me! I haven’t seen you in an age!”

“Hardly that long.” Gandalf smiled, walking up the steps to join Bilbo on the balcony.

“You’re looking well.” Gandalf said, filling his own pipe and lighting it – a Hobbitish blend from the southfarthing, if Bilbo’s nose wasn’t mistaken. He looked Bilbo over, maybe a bit too close for comfort – his blue eyes very sharp. “…You’ve hardly aged past your tweens…”

“Yes, well.” Bilbo said with a short laugh to cover the discomfort, puffing on his pipe, “All this traveling, you know. Keeps you young!”

“ _Does_ it?” Gandalf asked, and Bilbo laughed slightly again, easing away from Gandalf’s scrutiny.

His hand came up on its own to pat his pocket, to reassure himself that his little ring was still there – safe on its chain.

“…You would know, I suppose.” Gandalf said, finally looking away, “Not even the inimitable Belladonna Took wandered as far and long as you have.”

“Well… she didn’t marry a Dwarf.” Bilbo answered, affectionately petting his long braids with their pretty gold clasps. He normally wore simple silver when traveling, but Rivendel was safe enough he could wear his gold without worry.

“No, she didn’t.” Gandalf agreed, “I don’t suppose _you’ll_ ever settle down – just wander the roads of the world with your Dwarf all your days.”

Bilbo _had_ thought that, once upon a time.

“I’m retiring.” Bilbo answered quietly, not sure really why he was confessing this to Gandalf. He’d known the wizard since his youth, but still…

“I’m _old_ , Gandalf. I know I look like a tween still, but I’m nearly seventy. I _feel_ it in my bones. I’m worn thin and _faded,_ like… like cloth that’s been in the sun too long.”

“I’m retiring. I want comfort and the Shire, now. I’ve had my adventures. I want to settle down and live comfortable and disreputable in Bag End with Bofur for the next decade or… or however long I _have_.” Bilbo’s heart clenched at the thought of leaving Bofur, but there was nothing he could _do_ about their differing lifespans. His father had only made it to eighty, and Bilbo was doing well but he couldn’t really expect to be so lucky as to rival the Old Took for lifespan.

They’d had a good run together, Bilbo and Bofur.

“So I won’t be so hard to find anymore, soon!” Bilbo ended cheerfully, dismissing his morose thoughts. “You said you’ve been looking for me?”

“I have.” Gandalf answered, “I’ve been hunting a _story_.”

“Oh, a story! I’ve got lots of those.” Bilbo said, “Let me get Bofur, he’s much better at telling them. He’s off annoying the Elves somewhere…”

“No… no.” Gandalf held out a hand to stop Bilbo from jumping up to fetch his Dwarf, “I want to hear _you_ tell it.”

Curious, Bilbo settled back beside the wizard.

“I have heard _several_ accounts, but I need yours – of the first time you traveled through the Orc's Deep Road. You met a creature, there…” Gandalf prompted.

“Oh, awful thing, Gollum.” Bilbo answered, “That’s not a very _nice_ story. I’ve got much better ones. Did you hear about the time…”

“Bilbo…” Gandalf interrupted, a warning in his tone, “I have heard _many_ stories about you and your adventures. I want to hear _this_ story.”

“Well there’s not much to tell.” Bilbo answered, a little sharply. “There was a creature sabotaging the path, we fell into the dark, I met him and ran away and got myself saved by a passing family of free Orcs. She was such a lovely person, Golb, and after the life she’d lived… You know I still share letters with Aklash and Âmbal and Daul? Daul and Blotaz are quite accomplished traders, and Aklash has a daughter with…”

“Tell me about the creature, Gollum.” Gandalf interrupted again, “I want to know _everything_ about your meeting with him. How did _you_ escape him, when no one else ever lived to tell the tale.”

“That was all so _long ago_ Gandalf.” Bilbo dismissed, his hand coming up to press his ring in his pocket again, Gandalf’s eyes far too hard and bright on him, “I can hardly remember.”

“Bilbo Baggins, did you pick up something of that creature’s?” Gandalf’s voice was sharp.

“He was a sad little creature who talked to himself, wore nothing but a rag, and lived off bats and blind fish whoever he could kill who fell under the mountains. Why would I want anything of his?” Bilbo asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Why _would_ you?” Gandalf answered, his eyes far too piercing, and Bilbo was backing up.

But there was nowhere to _go_. Gandalf was between him and the stairs, towering huge, and Bilbo’s hand clenched tight on his pocket.

Just slip on the ring. Just slip it on and dart around… but then Gandalf would _know_. Bilbo had kept the ring secret all these years, his ring he’d used to make himself stealthier, to keep Bofur and everyone else he traveled with safe out in the wide dangerous world.

“It’s _mine_.” Bilbo’s voice snarled out, high and desperate, “It’s _my_ secret. It came to me and you can’t have it!” He’d backed up all the way to the railing, wishing _desperately_ that he had Sting with him, but he’d _never_ felt a need to walk armed in Rivendel.

“Bilbo…” Gandalf’s voice was soft, his the old and sad eyes of a friend, just a tired old man in gray, “I am not trying to rob you. Just show me… and tell me the whole story. The _true_ story.”

Bilbo was trembling, but he managed to fish his ring out to show it briefly to Gandalf, the most beautiful shine of gold in his palm.

“It’s just a little ring.” He said, closing it back up and tucking the ring securely away in his pocket, buttoning it firmly shut and placing his palm over it to keep it safe, “The Gollum creature… I think he was lonely. We played a game of riddles and I won. It was my prize for winning, my present…”

**Author's Note:**

> Unless plans change - there are three more stories to be told in this 'verse.


End file.
